Griffin's Walk
by anesor
Summary: DAO and DA2 sequel story, takes place during "A Match to Tinder 2." mostly Challenge prompts. The Warden and Alistair have been attending to Warden Duties for years, but others now impinge on even those duties. Chapter 0: Winter is colder and earlier than in Rivain, when they stop for the night. (chapter will be moved into proper sequence later)
1. A Discord of Griffins

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

* * *

Before we camped for the night, I checked my silly horse again for injuries. Winter travel was dangerous enough late winter, but Margot managed to forget snow and ice each and every night. She was better with bandits or hard travel, but come a dusting of snow or hoarfrost and she did her best to avoid touching the offending roadbed in the morning. If she was as Orlesian as her name implied, she'd have a scented handkerchief at her nose and complain about Mouser. Good thing horses couldn't use linens to appear snobby.

Alistair finished his check of Constance, a calmer mare from my brother's stables. I wasn't sure if it was because my brother had more confidence in my skills or less in Alistair's.

His frown when he looked south reminded me that we didn't agree on our task.

Nor would the First Warden; he would be more than displeased when he found out I was meddling again. Even if he couldn't quite name me renegade.

Too bad, he granted me political power when it was convenient. Anora would not rescind or even shift it to Jean-Maurice... ever. She was too much her father's daughter and Alistair enough his father's son that overthrowing her wouldn't help make an Orlesian commander acceptable. Especially now that Anora had a consort and heirs. When I brought Alistair along in my role of Arlessa for the birth celebrations, his appreciation of her children softened their relations considerably.

"Anything to add, Alistair?"

That got me only a glare. He led his horse under the evergreen's hanging branches and began to set up our tent.

I brought out the feed, seeing how little we had, both for horses and foraging mabari. Jader was a waste of time, the fugitives hadn't passed though there. We'd already checked Highever and Denerim, but us 'dog lords' didn't appreciate the contempt other lands had for our mabaris. I knew the mage was familiar with Amaranthine, but I doubted that he'd return there with how he left.

Nathaniel's report about Kirkwall and even the sister's, confirmed what others had been warning me for years. Much worse, and I might have brought in a group to investigate the problem. Hang the politics, I'd conscript the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander. I worried about the Qun and Tevinter.

In Orzammar, Sigrun might have news from her contacts with merchant clans, especially if Anders was leaving havok in his wake. Abominations were unable to go to ground once revealed. The ancient Sophia Dryden was a skin over the demon and not a Warden anymore.

Horses now content, Alistair grumbled his usual at the tent. I cleared a section of ground of needles to make a fire. I brought safer tinder out of the pouch and set to lighting it. While the tinder and a couple of missed needles flared, but the damp wood didn't really want to light. I nursed the fire, adding more tinder until the twigs dried and burned. I kept adding more wood, until there was enough fire to warm us and make a hot meal.

Howe insisted that Anders, despite his fire, was still a healer more than demon-skin. Nathaniel was convinced that Anders was in love. Bethany Hawke was not, though she was as resentful about some things as Velanna.

Was escape into the Wardens that onerous to mages? Anders seemed happy once he felt safer. I had to know _what_ he was.

Alistair sat, close enough to put his arms around me. I leaned back against him as a stray bit of sleet could be heard against the tent.

I looked into the fire. "I'm sorry that innocents died. I'm sorry that you or Le could have easily died. But far more died in the rioting, in the Gallows, and the Chantry had fewer deaths than I would have expected."

"It was still too many, Trinna. A Grand Cleric died."

"Leliana warned her to leave how many weeks ahead? It's hard to stop someone determined to be a martyr. Remember our fights after we left for Redcliffe?"

Clutching me closer, he insisted, "I would not have allowed you to..."

Hugging those arms around me, I reminded him of the truth. "Nor would I have allowed you either. We both suspected that truth from our dreams before Riordan spoke. It would have become a race between us."

His silence almost too long, he touched his chin on my shoulder. _"There would have been no race._ In death, victory."

"We need to determine whose was the death and whose was the victory in Kirkwall. Of five principals, only two live."

"You have more than a soft spot for that mage. He takes advantage of that." Venom in Alistair's voice was rare, venom and maybe a touch of jealousy.

I turned to be able to meet his glowering brown eyes. "He spoke of the same abuses as Wynne did, but he got _more_ of the darker than she. Remember how angry I was at Kinloch?"

"You didn't kill sisters or inno..."

"Irving died because we didn't use that scroll right. How many others, mages and Templars did we kill that might have been saved? We charged through to save the kingdom and a handful in the tower, others died. We have to make hard choices all the time as Gray Wardens, you told me that so many times."

His face was openly angry now. "That was during the Blight, as part of gaining allies to fight."

"Weren't mages our _allies_ during the Blight? How many darkspawn did Morrigan, Velanna, and Anders destroy? How many from the Circle had the fortitude that Wynne retained? Should we _cast them aside,_ like an unwanted kitten to be drowned now that the Blight is over? If we do that, how will we fight the next Blight?"

"He didn't kill darkspawn this time."

I closed my eyes and let my head fall against Alistair. _Truth, but we had to prepare for the next Blight._ "I know. If he is possessed and the man is gone, I will kill him. If the Champion is a thrall, that should be the end of it."

"If he isn't possessed? He has proven himself too wild and dangerous for a prison or allow his freedom. What will you do with him then?"

I didn't know. "Too much depends on what we learn. We have to find him first; find them before any of the Chantry forces."

"Anders must face the consequences for what he did. He caused a lot of pain."

"How much was done to him? To Kirkwall mages? You thought him too frivolous at the Vigil, but you always say that anyone should be allowed to defend themselves from attacks: elves, commoners, or mages. Not just the Blight, but from Loghains and Rylocks too."

Alistair sputtered for a moment and then sighed. "I.. don't know."

"That's why we have to find out."

_- x -_

_A/N: Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	2. A Different Calling

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

**Imperial Highway, near West Hill**

**Alistair macTheirin:**

"That report is a masterpiece of saying nothing, dear." My anger probably showed in my voice as I looked over the shoulder of her armor.

Trinna looked up from her travel desk with a flash of her own annoyance. "He needs to know we are on a recruiting sweep and that I plan for us to visit areas without regular Gray Warden presence."

"I see that you did not mention your latest recruit or reclamation in your note."

A sigh, and she sagged a little. "I don't quite know how to report it. There are precedents enough for nobles and princes who are skillful at arms. What was that phrasing when Riordan wanted to convince us that the bastard would be a useful recruit?"

I had to grit my teeth against the sudden remembered ache and anger for a moment. "I really don't remember anymore. I was too busy trying to resist my need to throttle him."

She turned and put her arms around me, and mine slid around her. No squirming from her for a change.

"I wanted to, too, Alistair. His right hand man was a traitor to other noble houses and even his own son. Loghain locked up his daughter, the queen. Once he was a hero, but he... seemed to corrupt everything he touched after he left the king to die. We did not need a cancer like that."

I had been half afraid she'd agree with Riordan at the time, her face had been so blank. He was only a traitor. "And we did it without him."

Hugging me tightly, she added, "You did the hardest part and I am quite aware how hard it was."

I didn't want to think about this.

I would not think about this for many reasons.

I didn't even want to list why I didn't.

Casting about, I started a new topic. "So we visit your brother next? Should we stop for gifts for your niece and nephews?" I liked Fergus, he had a level head even if we didn't agree on some things. He made it a goal that we marry and produce heirs. We hadn't told him.

"Either that, or we check on Avernus," Attyrne added.

She thought that mage was still useful even if I got almost nauseated thinking about his experiments, even with her ban on certain nastier aspects. I worried that he would make a breakthrough that would be damning to us all. I kind of hoped he'd just keel over and die, or eat some arsenic from an old rat trap. "Maybe."

She thought and then smirked as her fingers wandered to find both ticklish spots and others that made me stop breathing for a moment. Neither of us got amorous as often on the road anymore, that was usually reserved for safer locations or company. As much as being mocked by our friends wasn't fun, we didn't have to worry about danger.

At the back of my mind were the tales that were made to scare trainees, about maleficar finding a courting couple when they weren't alert. Those encounters did **not** end in losing only money, but blood and misery.

Those old fears were swept out of my mind when Trinna's mouth met mine.

In the morning, Attryne was playing a little fetch-the-stick with Mouser as I woke up and put on my armor. I always found it pleasant when we weren't in a rush for some urgent task. It had taken months for us to get those quiet reports about Kirkwall and then locate our targets. My hope was for a swing through Highever for family, and to the Vigil for Arlessa Trinna to check on and annoy the official Commander. Maybe even a visit to Denerim.

"Where are we going? No couriers out here," I prompted her. Few of the smaller bannorn kept messengers available.

Her smile said she understood my purpose. "Highever, I'm sure we can find some gifts in the shops first."

We didn't attract any trouble on the way, though we did listen to the mood of the more settled citizens. There was the usual fear of blood mages, but not much of the Templars here either. Some Circle mages traveled as Wynne did and a few braver mages lived fairly openly in places with sponsors.

That made me think of Eamon's son and the future of that line. Not that he had much choice with the law as it is. I suspected he supported the mages for the most part even if he could rarely see his son, even with his rank.

I felt the familiar ache of not knowing and fearing the cost for one child, never seen.

The Cousland home had the flags flying, saying that the family was home. This late in the day, they could not be leaving yet today. Trinna turned to visit some shops and she gave a few coins to a young girl to hold the horses. She was muttering about her gift list because the twins, Treven and Leola were much harder to shop for than the baby Alberic. I decided to look for something for Cal and Etta too.

Word must have passed that we'd arrived, as Trinna's coat of arms was being hoisted above even as we reached the gate.

Inside, we were swarmed by the twins, making walking difficult until we arrived in the family's private rooms; the nanny and their mother peeled them off amid promises to see us after dinner if they behaved.

His study suddenly quiet, Fergus grinned at us. "I was hoping to hear from you, Trinna. You're very popular right now. I've gotten more messages looking for you in the last few months than in years. I'd suggest you put the Queen at the top of your list."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._

_This was written as a challenge response for the words: ache, amorous, and arsenic._


	3. The Teyrn's Lecture

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Highever, the Teyrn's study**

**Warden Commander Attryne Cousland:**

My brother's children were growing like weeds, enough to make every visit a little bittersweet. The oldest was finally nearing the age of Oren and resembled him in ways that still hurt.

Maybe that was because we only visited a few times a year at best.

I only smiled when Treven raised a fuss. I could do that as an aunt. Liz gave baby Alberic to their elven nanny so she and Fergus could take Trev in hand. Leola left without much of a fuss, followed by a mature mabari pup, one of my Mouser's get by her coloring.

Once the traveling show left, only my brother Fergus, Alistair, and I remained in the study. I wasn't happy to learn about Anora's message.

I frowned at my brother, wanting to punch him in the arm like when we were young. "I don't know what Anora wants right now, but I get news from both my steward and Second regularly."

"We haven't been there since almost Satinalia, though the Queen might not approve of your Second that much." Alistair looked a little smug at this repeating friction. "She's not that used to treating an elf as a respected leader instead of only servants.

I hadn't been happy when the First Warden requested some from our thinner roster to help in the Marches over the years. I would have preferred to keep Nathaniel close if more Orlesians decided to come 'help us.' "She's not that bad if I remind her how Eladras' mother was killed by Orlesians. We need to be able to recruit and this way we don't interfere as much with the army and the Banns. And we get fresher blood too."

Fergus laughed. "It still makes me think how Mother and Father hoped to keep you out of the army. Here you are, with your own Arldom and separate command."

I'd always known Fergus would become Teyrn after Father, but Mother... "Mother kept ordering dresses for me to wear for visitors. She wanted me to have the carefree youth she didn't have." She and I finally came to terms just before she died and that still hurt. My hopes to accomplish something more didn't set that well with her, though Father understood more.

"She wanted you to have a family, and not become some kind of shield maiden." Fergus stopped smiling.

I had stopped too. "Wardens can't have families. You know that."

Teyrn Cousland stepped over and gripped my arm hard. "They can't have Arldoms either, or survive killing an Archdemon. You must secure an heir, Trinna. Find a consort, like Anora did. Ferelden cannot survive yet another civil war in one lifetime, over an important domain. I'm speaking as your brother, don't make me speak as your Teyrn as well."

Alistair had paled.

My throat hurt and I wanted to smack the Teyrn. But I knew this game more than I wanted to think about. It was bad enough there were still fiefs in the Bannorn that were open or only recently granted. So many had died in the Blight and many more had hotheaded Banns.

There were enough curmudgeons who didn't like my elevation anymore than the Queen's consort's. So far no Bann had distinguished her- or himself enough to make a new Teyrn for Gwaren.

During my pause, Fergus continued his attack. "Your duty is clear for the Wardens, but this will help that vigilance too. If the Wardens are out in the open like any noble family instead of some secret fortress or at the other end of Thedas they would be more trusted."

Mustering up some outrage, Alistair said, "We shouldn't have to prove our loyalty over and over. We are Fereldan, born and bred. That doesn't conflict with fighting darkspawn."

"I know that, and Anora knows that, even if she likes the political games. And those games often come down to inheritance and power in the land..." Fergus paused and loosened his grip on my arm a little. "And Trinna, your life is dangerous enough. How many trips into the Deep Roads will you survive? You must attend to your duty as Arlessa. You will make a good mother, I keep tabs on you through your steward and you have applied Mother's rules there quite clearly...

"Find a consort. Make a business arrangement for a marriage if you must. Spring is a good time, as more of the nobility will be in Denerim for the next few weeks. You know that is one of our greatest duties, to prepare for the next generation." Fergus looked sad for a moment.

_Maker. _ "Was Liz a business arrangement too?"

Fergus's face got still and I could see that he didn't want to say whatever he was about to. "Yes, she was the younger daughter of a Bann who was nearly wiped out in the south. Our affection came later." He almost looked at Alistair. "I kept someone on the side for several years, that is accepted."

Alistair looked hurt and I stepped back from my brother. I'd thought he liked Alistair.

A knock at the door, and Liz peeked in. "Hurry up, Fergus. We're using the last of the dried cherries in tonight's pies and the twins are all excited about your visit."

When she left, Fergus turned back to me. "This need not require that much of your time Warden, but it must be done."

My stomach churned at a stray thought that landed like an anvil. I wasn't sure if I wanted the Teyrn of Highever raising Amaranthine... a complete reversal of not that many generations before.

_- x -_

_A/N: The challenge is to include the words: cherry, carefree, and curmudgeon. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	4. Dynastic Duties

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Highever, the Great Hall**

**Warden Alistair macTheirin:**

Dinner seemed pleasant, on the surface, but underneath the travel stories for the children was quiet anger and resentment.

Of course that could have been just me, the Teyrn and Teyrna were speaking and interacting with their children and dependents. Attryne was quiet as well, and I couldn't be sure just what she was thinking.

I wanted to glare at Fergus, and I couldn't decide if it would have been any better or worse if he had made these demands behind my back.

When the dinner dishes were taken away by the footmen, the cherry and apple pies were offered to each of us. I copied Trinna's choice of the cherry. What worried me more was that she hadn't met my gaze or shared any of our little touches during the family evening as we usually did.

That made my tummy uneasy.

Trinna had been raised to this by their father, but now Fergus was the Teyrn. I'd heard the occasional whispers that she might have been named Teyrna if she hadn't become a Gray Warden. She was bred for this.

Her family clearly thought this was her duty. The youngest, Alberic, was given for her to hold as if it would persuade her. The twins wanted stories about Duncan from me as was usual, but my heart wasn't in it. Eventually the family retired to their wing. There in her suite, we removed our armor and started on the padding.

Long familiar a chamber from earlier visits, I couldn't contain myself any longer. "Are you going to go to the _Pearl_ or will this be one of those marriage alliances?" My venom surprised me as well.

She glared at me, her eyes flashing. "If I wanted that, I could have been engaged to Nathaniel's brother before Duncan arrived. That might have prevented most of the deaths here, aside from _my family._ I'm sure Rendon would have been pleased to make sure I inherited quickly. How many died because I was selfish and avoided off my duty?"

That made me pause. "You can't blame yourself for any of it."

"No, I hope _his_ soul flew apart in the Void, because he deserved worse than that quick death. I could have planned better and reacted faster." She kicked a chair angrily and when it hit the wall, it broke with a loud crack. "I should have seen it coming."

"Attryne, that's _**over.**_ We have other responsibilities: victory, vigilance, and sacrifice."

Her eyes shining and voice quiet, she looked me in the eye. "Not all sacrifice is death, Alistair."

Fear rose from my gut. "You're considering it. Haven't we been engaged since you left for the Vigil after the Blight? Doesn't that mean something?"

"It hasn't been public, and engagements don't last this long. Announce it just before Landsmeet, and it looks like we're angling towards the throne in some kind of Warden play for power. Anora has Cal and Etta to protect, too. Do you think she will let _any_ rumors threaten them?"

I'd wanted Arl Eamon's blessing, even if I wasn't king as he'd wanted. We couldn't have a family, so I thought we could wait for him. The Chant always said patience was a virtue.

Now it was too late.

I wanted to break something too, and strode out of our room. It was a bad idea, so I left the stone bulk of the inner keep. A cold, spring rain soaked me through and I cast my eyes around, seeking the shortest path to the stables.

They had always been a comfort, though I knew that was no credit to me.

When I got closer, I saw that the kennel master was awake, dealing with at least one bitch that was delivering a litter of mabari pups. It was warmer in here, but I'd have to go out into the rain again for any privacy.

The rain ached coldly and thunder rang in the distance. I stood in a small courtyard looking up at the bulk of the keep where lights shone out some windows.

I didn't want to think about it, but I had to.

Attryne had been a Warden for years now, and duty was meat and bone for her. The Wardens demanded an Arlessa for future vigilance. The nobles demanded an heir for duty's sacrifice. Fergus had done the same. This was all duty and sacrifice, traits our lives were built on.

_How much did our desires stack against duty?_

The cold water trickled down my back, making me shiver with goose bumps. The storm fit my mood.

"I'm not that mad at you, Alistair. I am mad that you didn't want to confront him before it came to this." Her voice came from the shadows behind me, but she wasn't visible in the dark and rain.

It hurt me to speak a plea I didn't understand myself. "Sacrifice..."

She stood in front of me, and her arms slid around me and squeezed before I knew what to say.

_Maker, this wasn't goodbye. _I held her, and felt bliss that she was in my arms again, almost like I was floating. My feeling was interrupted by Trinna stretching to kiss me, and the rain didn't prevent me feeling hot now.

"Does this mean that we're at the warm and fuzzy part of the day?" I could say that with a wet smile

_- x -_

_A/N: A writingcom challenge was posted for the words: copy, bliss, and rain. Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	5. Interlude in Denerim

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

The shadows of Fort Drakon and her city walls made deep, jagged lines over the roofs of the buildings tucked in below them as dawn broke over the horizon. At this time of day, it was too easy for her to remember the wreckage the Archdemon had left of the capital of Ferelden a decade ago.

Now, she didn't spend all her waking hours, and too many hours only half-awake, calling for help from the less affected in the Bannorn, rebuilding, and hoping the darkspawn problems in Amaranthine would fade away. Denerim was rebuilt, if not as well as she would have liked. Amaranthine was rebuilt on its own ashes.

That time had passed and the land she had inherited from both her husband's youth and her father's error, prospered. She proved that she was still the queen she'd been before the Blight. She'd to take a consort, though. An heir was proof she was looking to the future and not obsessed with old hatreds like her father had been.

It was almost too bad she could not have consolidated the throne with marrying the fool, as little as she would have liked dealing with him on a daily basis. At least he was a warrior who did listen to counsel, so they might have done well.

He and the Arlessa had not married and raised any children. They seemed to have their own troubles with Grey Warden politics, which kept them away much of the time. When home, they were assets, keeping the other Wardens in Ferelden within Warden duties, even any Orlesian ones. They had proven their loyalty to the land, and as queen, she could not take that for granted, not with the allegiances of most Wardens sent to 'help' in Amaranthine.

Her father would have _risen from his ashes_ if she had allowed that.

They had behaved, and the Arlessa had done her proper duties at the royal wedding and even the birth of the heirs. The Couslands had always been loyal vassals.

But that made for the next concern. Branches of noble lines weren't a problem. Younger children who proved themselves were often good title candidates for lines that had died out. The important thing was to make sure that the senior line did not make a puppet of the cadet branch. Nor did she want for Highever to assume Amaranthine as well.

Landsmeet was swiftly approaching and she needed to have a plan for this in place before the assembly began.

Little feet pounded into her study, as Cal and Etta ran in only a little ahead of Roshan. Erlina brought Cal's jacket a few steps behind.

Naming her eldest after her first husband seemed a wise move at the time, though she sometimes feared that he would grow as foolish. Erlina and other parents said this was common, especially for boys.

"Good morning, dears. Did the Maker send you lovely dreams last night?" Anora had to resist laughing as Erlina caught up with Cal and put his jacket on him.

"I rode a puppy! Taller than Papa!" Etta crowed.

Cal frowned. "I don't have to go into the Fade, do I? I'm a prince."

She wasn't sure if that was fear. "No, sometimes it is much more restful not to dream."

Roshan picked up Etta and set her up on his shoulder. "Were you this tall, love?"

Etta was happier than Cal was, but they moved to their private parlor for breakfast. After they'd eaten, the children were taken away by nurses and tutors, leaving her competent handmaiden as their only company.

"Is there something I should know before Landsmeet, my lady?" Roshan Sighard was better at being serious and not gathering power in his own right.

Those had been the most important qualities she'd sought in a consort.

"Nothing is new this year among the Banns and nobles. They argue precedence and attempt to gain vacant lands still under crown control. Rounds of plotting are only overshadowed by one thing: the larger problem of the Templars and Circles and their war. I do not want that war to swallow Ferelden, too."

"Has there been any reported problems at Kinloch?" Roshan was a good audience with his scholar's ear.

"No, but there has been a slight paring of Templars at the Chantry here in Denerim as well as noted by Our steward at Gwaren. Despite events at Kirkwall, our Circle has not gone over into rebellion." That was her first worry, but the deals made during the Blight seemed to be holding.

"What news have you had about that small army found west of Calenhad last autumn? There was magic involved, right?"

"That was not _my army_ and should not have been within _my borders._ Foreign forces do not have Our permission to mount expeditions here."

Roshan looked curious. "If they had asked?"

"Maybe, but it is my decision not _an__y_ outsider's."

He plainly wanted to ask.

Anora shook her head; she hadn't decided. "No, I wish to stay neutral. We suffered enough ruin from the Blight and don't need this war. Let them waste themselves on the Maker's business."

"But who do you lean towards, my lady?" Roshan was cautious. His older brother, now Bann Sighard, had been rescued by mages during the Blight.

Both sides of this war were dangerous to those in their way. But the Templar Knight Commander had assumed the coronet of Kirkwall in all but law. That was a bad precedent. The mages had not usurped that power, even with the Champion for a figurehead. Her intelligencers said that a new Viscount should be elected by summer, which would make her more comfortable with such a near neighbor.

"I will decide, when one side or the other becomes a threat to Ferelden."

_- x -_

_A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	6. The Teyrn's Maggot

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

* * *

**Highever, Cousland wing**

**Arlessa Cousland:**

I woke in that Cousland bed that was never truly my own. The one I'd grown up using was long destroyed by fire and invaders. The one in my quarters at the Vigil had been quietly upgraded to be more comfortable than the cots, bunks, and modest beds that filled that keep. I never knew if my original recruits replaced it, or Alistair had, with his sometimes hidden appreciation for luxury. I never asked.

I didn't have to pretend that I wasn't wallowing in the expensive mattress and sheets.

A calloused finger traced my cheek and drew me out of my early morning half-doze. I looked at Alistair.

"Have I mentioned lately just how enticing your sable hair is in the morning?"

I pulled some strands from where our hair overlapped, my dark brown a contrast with his lighter hair. "Not quite black enough to be sable."

Nothing had really been solved, despite our reconciliation. His voice was more earnest than flirtatious just now; we both knew this wouldn't be easy. I was still more than a little annoyed that he'd waited too long for Eamon to bless our wedding.

"Sable can be lighter, dear." Alistair wasn't pleading as incoherently as last night in the rain, but this wasn't what he meant.

I couldn't lie and guarantee what he wanted to hear. So I kissed him and promised, "I will try, but I can't say now what we'll need to do. The Banns are used to seeing us together. I don't remember any proposals, so this might just be a maggot in my brother's brain."

"Hoping for maggots is such a bad, bad thing." Alistair spoke with only a little humor.

Breakfast was as quiet as young children could make it, but soon we said our farewells. My brother, or maybe the Teyrn, made a point to mentioning he'd see us at Landsmeet.

We hurried to Amaranthine for a brief visit at the Vigil where it was almost a comfort to be in my own lands again.

Jean-Maurice long gone for near-treason in bowing to Orlesian orders, it had taken years until I could get Howe's promotion confirmed. He was eager to refuse visiting Landsmeet this year; he'd enough time away from home. Nate detailed a Warden from Denerim to command our honor guard from the Silver Order. Reports on Arling business, on Warden business, writs and reviews... these visits with Nate and Captain Garevel dragged out.

In only a few days, my parade set off for Denerim to prepare for Landsmeet. This fine house was not my home, and I didn't keep a large staff. My guard scattered to learn the layout, as the steward put up my arms. Over days, we ordered fine clothing, hoping to be ready before the rest of the nobility arrived.

Through all this, Alistair and I did not speak about the bronto in the hall.

Invitations from Banns and even merchants for social gatherings flooded in. My preferred duties as a Warden left me unable to attend most years, but this year we attended most events. I wanted to understand the mood of the other nobles before Anora formally opened this year's Landsmeet.

Alistair was too quiet during this, aside from jokes about nicer clothing. All too clear was how much we'd been raised differently.

As I spoke to merchants and younger lords, they gossiped about the fighting. They couldn't hide their glee that Ferelden was quiet. I couldn't blame them, I had traveled outside my homeland enough to get angry at how other lands dismissed how costly and destructive the Blight had been here.

Not that Ferelden was as free as Anders would like, but it was better than other places, now.

This was an afternoon event, the day after I got word that Fergus and Lizz had opened their house. Teas and rumors for the ladies, and males were frowned upon.

"Commander, what use is an honor guard who remains outside?" Eladras sounded respectfully pissed.

"Unless you can suddenly become female, bringing you or Alistair would lose more influence than I gain." _I wasn't that worried._

He shook his head. "I hear much from my cousin Shianni, the longer I am here. Rumors from the Marches mention Wardens in the original fighting there and a few hotheads distrust your influence, as noble and Warden."

Remembering Sophia Dryden, I could understand that, but that would not deflect me from my various duties. Then I realized how sneaky Nathaniel had gotten, and had to laugh. "And you are to report on this to Nathaniel, aren't you?"

Eladras' smug grin answered that.

"No guard _this_ time, but I would like any political reports too. I will be listening and don't need a second shadow."

He nodded and faded away outside when I entered the Sighard mansion..

I moved quietly through the milling crowd, listening to the others speak. My skills at passing unnoticed were helpful for gathering this information, reminding me of the former Dark Wolf's information. Some worried about the mages, fewer worried about the Templars. All of them didn't want the fighting to come here too, even if none were inflamed. Other subjects came less often and those worried me.

Anora still had not granted the Gwaren or Denerim titles. She must not have forgiven Teagan for his loyalty to Eamon, and he was the most blooded noble without rank.

That was what the nobles wanted of her.

What was wanted with me was harder to gather. A few expressed an interest in allying with Amaranthine since that title wasn't vacant. A scathing comment about Alistair's legitimacy made me want to slap the woman, but that would have ended the chatter, as little as I liked it.

Fergus was right, always something a younger sister _hated_ to admit.

Brooding about this, I went to the refreshment table. There, Erlina interrupted me and demanded that I accompany her to a study. _The Queen had entered the board._

* * *

_A/N: The challenge is to include the word_s: easy, earnest, and enticing . _T__hanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	7. The Queen's Audience

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

When Erlina escorted me to a private meeting, it never failed to make me a little sick from memories of how we protected the queen at the cost of our freedom. Memories of my 'questioning' in the Fort Drakon dungeon still occasionally played a counterpoint of agony to my Darkspawn nightmares.

Aside from rubbing suddenly sweaty palms against my fine dress, I hoped I presented a calm exterior as I crossed into the study. My hosts were the Queen's siblings by marriage, so even if they were not of the bluest blood, their blood was getting slowly bluer every year.

That didn't mean I could trust them; Father had trusted Howe.

I entered the study, itself an explosion of peacocks in all their glory: fresco images painted in all the bright blues, indigos, and almost iridescent greens, so lifelike that you almost forgot they were larger than life-size. The other surfaces from curtains to painted panels had more abstract depictions of eyes and feathers inlaid in precious metal and stitched in silks and fabrics that rippled and shifted.

In contrast with paired lapis lazuli statuettes, Queen Anora wore an almost muted rusty orange informal gown. She sat calmly on a fine chair that wasn't quite impressive enough to be a throne. "Amaranthine..."

I curtseyed deeply and held it. Childhood lessons from my mother were still fresh enough.

The bitch made me hold it until even my battle-hardened muscles were starting to scream, before she gestured that I could rise. I'd carefully blanked my thoughts, as this would be a petty reason to make Anora irate if she wasn't already.

I stood up, trying to do it smoothly.

"Amaranthine, it has come to Our attention that the Bannorn has noticed your lack of an heir. I'm sure the Warden-Commander is well aware of how the issues of rulership and inheritance are properly the interest of the Landsmeet and crown." Anora paused for an objection she didn't hear. "We expect the Arlessa to attend to this properly during the course of this Landsmeet. We would be pleased to attend the wedding, but We suppose an heir of the blood on its way will be sufficient as well."

I felt dizzy with an ache near my ears as I couldn't breathe. My voice felt thin as I spoke and I was having trouble with the proper words. "Why after all these years? I could name another as heir."

She looked irritated as well. "We do not wish Highever to influence this out from under our overview. Ferelden is better served with independent lords, allied to each other at times but not subordinate." Her eyes narrowed, "With events across Thedas being what they are, Weisshaupt has less scope to interfere if the heir is of your body. The First Warden has assured me that he is pleased with Amaranthine's productivity."

The secret would not serve us now and was one of my few cards to play. "One problem is that Wardens are infertile. There is little purpose in planning for children, Your Majesty. That Warden secret is why removing us from inheritances makes little difference."

Anora was closer to angry now, her lighter coloring very cold. "Actually, that rule indicates as much the opposite of that. If it was impossible, then the rule would be unnecessary. On your oaths, Cousland, can you say that the taint makes all women infertile? Are there not babes sired by Gray Wardens as well?"

Those questions were like being slapped, as broodmothers and Morrigan's baby made that less than a simple answer.

Before I could lie to her, she swept forward, ignoring my pause. "You _will_ marry, and pray that the Maker will bless you. You will need these years to raise your heir before your Calling as well. Gray Warden nobles must serve like any other lines outside those Gray Warden responsibilities. _You have until the end of Landsmeet, Arlessa._ Ferelden needs stability and peace and _that_ I will enforce."

I wanted to shout and rant at Anora, the ingrate. We bled and gave up pieces of our _souls_ to save Ferelden. Wasn't it enough she got the throne that she wanted so much? Alistair had the stronger claim and the main reason I couldn't marry him before now was that I'd supported her for the crown instead of my reluctant Alistair.

We both had much bluer blood than her and I wanted to smack her for the manipulative bitch she was.

Anora sat there coolly looking at me as I trembled with my desire to backhand her. The bright indigos of the peacocks dulled from my rage.

Her smile got mockingly cruel as she gestured for me to leave. "Just do as Arl Eamon told _me_ a few years ago after the Blight, close your eyes and think of Ferelden."

_- x -_

_A/N: Challenge words used in this chapter are ingrate, irate, and indigo. Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	8. Alistair Hunting

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel. _

_- x x -_

**Denerim, Arlessa Amaranthine's Mansion**

**-Alistair macTheirin:**

Feeling useless, the mansion hummed around me with activity, preparing for society and daily tasks. I could share a heaping platter of cheese with Mouser. I could train with the Silver Order, and should. That wasn't enough to fill my day.

I needn't worry about Trinna with Tabris guarding her; he'd have no more luck than I had during the Blight. She kept busy as Arlessa, even with her occasional illicit jobs as the Dark Wolf after the Amaranthine poseur vanished. I often thought she continued mostly to amuse herself while we visited Denerim for Landsmeets.

I had no hobbies. I always had duties and was shamed if I didn't obsess enough.

Mucking out stables was my bane at Redcliffe. As a Templar recruit, I trained and studied the Chant. I mucked out the stables there as punishment. Once a Grey Warden, I trained _more_ and fought Darkspawn. Again the newest, I mucked out the stable more than once before Ostagar.

I refused to admit _that__'s_ my only hobby.

A servant brought me a message and the fine script told me this wasn't Warden business. Sometimes darkspawn felt cleaner than politics.

Arl Eamon sent an impromptu invitation for drinks and gentlemanly conversation before tomorrow's opening ceremony.

Once I'd wished he was my father, disappointed by my own blood's uncaring. Goldana was a painful introduction, and I still felt guilty that I didn't mourn her death like I should.

This was my first invitation from Eamon in... well, ever. He explained his expectations and that was that. I faintly remembered gatherings at Redcliffe when young. New horses and carriages made the extra chores to house Isolde's friends palatable. That was long past with her death and Conner's entering the Circle.

I hoped to speak with Eamon quietly today and changed into a finer tunic. I left without a guard. No one ever bothered me. Others with their guards entered Eamon's Denerim residence while I crossed the market.

Entering the large study, I heard conversations among a score of nobles, mostly Banns or heirs. I saw mostly elven servers. Announced as 'Alistair Theirin' again, I wanted to glare at the missing Eamon.

The conversations of the mostly male guests were louder than I remembered from Redcliffe. Two other Arls, West Hills and Southron Hills were disagreeing about something. Bann Teoric, with beady little eyes and older by at least three decades, followed one server around the room with his eyes. He only wanted something illicit, judging by his wedding ring.

I wasn't enjoying this. Few spoke anything about spring planting, the controversial mage-war, or even the Landsmeet.

"Alistair, it's been a long time. Good to see you here with the rest of us bachelors." Eamon arrived with a stunning elf on his arm.

I frowned. "You've been busy when we wanted to visit, Ser."

"No need for formality, boy, just Eamon." He spoke genially.

"Eamon, I want to talk to you while we have the chance." I spoke quietly; this wasn't a public topic.

With a clasp of his companion's hand, Eamon nodded to a closed door. Beyond, I found a more private office.

Unsure how long he'd give me, I hurried what I wanted to say. "I want your blessing..."

"Good, good. You should be thinking of your duty to your ancestors, from Calenhad to Maric..."

"I want to marry Trinna Cousland. She deserves a proper wedding."

"No doubt. But you have been involved since during the Blight, correct? I _know_ you two haven't provided heirs, and can't. That is Amaranthine's problem. Mine is securing the Theirin line before I die."

My jaw was clenched. "I will not dishonor her."

Eamon nodded, as if he expected that.

We returned to the study. More drinks and food were served as guests took seats in little groupings while we were gone. Shortly, two human women attached themselves to me and my embarrassment at their clinging was turning to anger.

After one too many accidental brushings by Edele, I spoke to them both. "That's enough, thank you very much."

"What's the problem, Theirin? This is all in fun before the Landsmeet opens. No wives and plenty of beautiful women to enjoy." Bann Jasper ruled Amaranthine itself.

Bann Loren, sniggered. "He's been kept to duty too much."

"He's obviously not taken with blondes," blonde Rela said with a pout, leaning against me. "That's too bad as I really wanted to experience Warden stamina for myself."

I glared at and leaned away from Rela though Edele stayed beside me. She smiled like a predator, like Morrigan actually.

"I heard you prefer brunettes. I can be much, much more exciting than _duty_, Ser Theirin," Edele purred from too close.

_Oh, no!_ "I am not interested." I pushed her back as I started to stand.

She shrieked loudly as she fell to the floor, even if I hadn't pushed that hard.

I could only look at her, speechless.

She cowered and sobbed. "You _said_ if I was discreet we could announce it tonight! I might be pregnant _already_!"

"Like father, like son. Trifling with chits on the side." Loren looked amused. "Nice fields you plowed there, _she's_ got the hips for children."

"I didn't..."

"Loren. That's enough." Arl Eamon's face was red with his anger. "I can break you."

"Edele! Are you alright?" Arl Ceoric of Southron Hills came over and pulled her up, the picture of a concerned parent. "How could you, Theirin?"

His horrified glare was at my waist. When I looked there, something lacy, feminine, and unfamiliar was half hanging out. _Whe__n did that ogre punch me?_

"He-ey! That's..."

Edele wept ugly. "You promised me!"

"Alistair! She's an _**Arl's daughter.**_" Eamon thundered like a sermon, his face still red. "You will do the honorable thing, young man."

Ceoric smiled thinly and with a hint of pride at Arl Wulff. "I'll send the proper announcement to the Grand Cleric."

"I never..."

_Trinna's going to kill me!_

_- x -_

_A/N: The challenge words are beady, controversial, and illicit. Thanks **again** to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


	9. Interruptions

_The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this. - CHAPTER WILL BECOME FIRST CHAPTER LATER -  
_

_- x x -_

**Imperial Highway, near West Hill**

**Warden Trinna Cousland -**

Our ship from Antiva docked just before winter set in. It had been easy to forget in sunny and hot Antiva that winter arrived so much sooner here at home. Satinalia would arrive before we could make the overland travel through the cold and snow back to Highever.

Fergus' children would be disappointed, but my responsibilities were not those of an aunt right now.

Alistair and I planned to visit the ports along the Waking Sea seeking rumors and contacting those I knew in the region. We didn't have enough winter gear with us to hunt for long. If we pushed hard, I should be able to visit in a month or so and get more gear

We could travel only a quarter of summer distances in the blowing snow on the highway's bed. The rising smoke from chimneys ahead promised us a warm place to sleep. If we were lucky, we'd have our own private room at the inn, instead of sleeping in the common room.

Night fell before we arrived, wet and cold. The barn was little more than a sagging shed, but enough for our hardy steeds. I didn't see an ostler or stable-girl, but we fed the horses before we staggered to the inn itself. Alistair broke the path through the snow and Mouser followed me. I was beginning to shiver as the winds picked up. The signboard waved and squeaked in the rising wind, but I couldn't read it in the dark.

The innkeeper tried to encourage us to sleep in the common room with the handful of others stranded. He seemed regretful we couldn't order a hot bath in our room, too. Alistair took one look at me, shivering, as the melting snow dripped on Mouser and the floor in the warmth. Alistair marched the innkeeper towards the worn steps until he admitted there was a small room tucked up under the roof.

I wanted out of my wet armor and padding. Just about any room would better than sleeping among the vermin I thought I saw in the straw on the floor. Not that watching the rarity of Alistair be intimidating wasn't entertaining, too.

The room was small and there was hoarfrost on the ceiling, but Alistair browbeat the man for fuel for the very small fireplace. Soon a smokey fire was burning away and I finished stripping off my wet padding and laying it over the locked and dusty chests around the room.

It was clear why they hadn't wanted to rent us the room; it was a rarely used room with dust and some cobwebs at the edges. Also clear in the firelight were Alistair's chest muscles as he tried to get his trews off over his boots. He was so entertaining when he was in a hurry. I never tired of the planes and curves of his skin in the firelight. We started that way.

Mouser barked quietly, warning me there was some subtle danger.

I patted his head. "Find it, boy."

Alistair froze, and looked at us suspiciously, kicking off his boots and I could hear stitches break as Mouser went over to the alcove.

I hoped he wasn't about to find any rats. Mouser's name came from my sense of humor and how fond he was of killing rats when he was a pup.

He nosed chests and crates aside a bit, seeking whatever he smelled.

I heard something fall and hit something metal.

That was not normal.

Alistair handed me a dagger, and he had one at hand as we waited for the rat to try to run out and away from that corner.

What rose from that corner was a rank odor, corrupted, and probably dead. I grabbed the wood bucket and dumped the wood out so I could retch. Not much as we hadn't eaten since mid-day.

Alistair had a stronger stomach and opened the tiny window.

I patted Mouser's head and scratched at his ears.

Before we went any further, we dressed in spare dirty clothing and bright armor that made hiding anywhere but a Grey Warden wake difficult. Armed again in perceived authority, we moved the chests, pausing only to gag.

Moving into the alcove, which was larger than it appeared. There was a metal bath with dried blood and other stains. The body seemed mostly dried out. What was once an arm had fallen beside the tub. Around, and partly under the desiccated arm was a set of extra nails or claws that looked like they were made of gold. One of the gold fingernails hadn't fallen off.

Mouser looked uneasy, though proud at what he'd found.

I was tired already and looked at Alistair. I don't know who was the Bann over this area and this was just another delay in hunting for the fugitives. I was both charged with vigilance as a Grey Warden and duty as an Arlessa sworn to the crown. This farm was not in my official duties for either. We were going to piss off the First Warden again, but I was not going to ignore this.

Whoever could afford false gold fingernails should not have disappeared, but the cloth and his or her appearance was almost impossible to identify. We had to investigate... even if this was not how I planned to spend the next few hours.

Alistair looked frustrated too and raked his fingers back from his forehead. "That's just not right."

_- x -_

_A/N: __This story was inspired by the monthly prompt set: word=warmth, phrase='That's not just right,'__Elements=motel room, set of false fingernails, and blood. Some were tweaked for setting. __Thanks to my beta reader who has been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated._


End file.
